You're gonna be bothered by how cool I am.

Dear Santa,

I have been a good girl.

It really wasn't my fault what happened at Susan's Christmas party. It was Emily who spiked the punch with too much rum. I can't help it if I drank 87 glasses. It was so good---smelled and tasted just like napalm.

I thought it was funny when I put Janae's hat on my head and danced the Roger Rabbit on the futon while singing `Don't Stop Till You Get Enough'. I didn't mean to break Susan's electric toothbrush and don't know why Susan would sue me for espionage.

I don't remember calling Rick's wife a froofy billy goat---even though she looked like one with chartreuse eye shadow and magenta lipstick!

And when I threw up on Sara's husband's kneecap, it was only because I ate too much of that hot wings.

After all that fun, I admit I was a little tired. So I fell asleep on my way home and drove my BMW through my neighbor's kitchen. I don't think that was any reason for my neighbor to call me a pointy meerkat and have me arrested for contributing to the delinquence of a minor!

So, Santa...here I sit in my jail cell on Christmas Eve, all hearty and pushy. And I'm really not to blame for any of this unusual stuff. Please bring me what I want the most---bail money!

Sincerely and really yours,
Pam (Really a nice girl!)

P.S. It's only 418 bucks!

Make your own here.